Charlatan
by Buddi of Yonder
Summary: Three years after "Under the Sky so Blue", Vash the Stampede has been accused of destroying the city of December. His appearance in an unsuspecting town is proof of what he has become. What happened to Vash to make him change his beliefs about killing?
1. The Accusation

Darkness lay over the town. Even the brightness of the moons could not lighten the grasp that night had on it. It was as if a shadow had descended from some dark place, unknown to any living mortal. All of the buildings were unlit, save one, where light shown from the first story windows, fighting the shadow for a chance to shine in the dark night. The murmur of voices and quiet laughter seeped from the cracks in the doors and windows, the people inside talking and laughing about little, petty things that they deemed important in their small world. _They're blind, conceited. They only care about themselves._

Something within the night's shadow moved. It moved with slow, sure steps towards the door of the building. As it passed the windows, a ray of light illuminated it for what it was.

A man in a red coat.

In one swift motion he grasped the handle, turned it, and threw open the door.

The sound of the door slamming against the wall was the only warning the people had of the coming danger. They looked towards the door just in time to see the silver gun in the man's hand before they saw nothing.

* * *

The sound of gunfire awakened a young woman sleeping restlessly in a hotel down the street. She shot up in bed, her eyes vainly tried to adjust to the oppressive darkness. She listened intently as more shots went off. Then she heard the cry go up in the night. 

"It's Vash the Stampede!"

The girl's eyes went wide in the dark. She threw herself out of bed and raced out of her room. She could see other people milling around in confusion, opening doors and whispering in fright. She raced around them and out of the building.

_It can't be...

* * *

_

The man stared down at the bodies in the street, soaking the dark sand with blood. His lips twitched into a smile, his eyes hidden behind the lenses of his sunglasses, unnecessary in the dark night except for his own purposes. He stood, illuminated by the light of the windows. He could feel the eyes of the townspeople upon him as they hid in the shadows. He spun around towards the darkness, putting his gun away._ That is enough for now. I will let the rest live with what they have witnessed here._ He felt the witnesses of his slaughter recoil as he passed by them. Looking down the street, he noticed a man standing in his way. The darkness had enveloped him so much, it was impossible to make out who he was. The murderer stopped about ten feet in front of the man. He sensed the other townspeople forming a loose circle around him. The man blocking his way was the first to speak.

"I have you now. You won't be able to get away this time." He was trembling with rage. The murderer's eyes squinted into a frown behind his round frames. _Who is this man?_ Then he noticed the gun in his opposition's hand.

"Are you crazy!?" Another male voice said furiously. "Don't you know who that is!?"

"Of course I do," said the man with the gun, keeping eye contact with the killer in front of him. "He's that bastard Vash the Stampede, the Humanoid Typhoon."

The man known as Vash smiled again. Hearing that accusation always thrilled him. He was opening his mouth to respond.

"That's not him."Yet another voice, confident and clear, rang in the air.

Vash's eye's widened in shock at these words. Who would accuse him of that? _Who would know...?_

He turned around to meet the gaze of the one who had spoken. She stood inside the circle of onlookers, yet still hidden by the night's dark obscurity. She was short in stature, and by the sound of the voice was a young woman.

"What?" said the other man. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

"I mean that this man is not Vash the Stampede." The woman's voice was unwavering.

"How could you possibly know that? He fits the description perfectly!"

"So?" The young woman's voice became suddenly quieter. "I know Vash, this is definitely not him."

Vash looked down at this woman in astonishment. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. _How can she know...?_ Silently, he collected himself; then he spoke.

"How do you know that I am not Vash the Stampede?" His voice was clear and opposing; a few weaker souls watching cowered back. Yet the woman he was addressing did not flinch away. She raised her eyes from the ground and met his cold gaze with hers.

"You didn't recognize me."

The man called Vash the Stampede let out a chilling laugh. "What makes you think that a murderous outlawwould care enough to recognize you?"

The woman's face flushed lightly. "I didn't say that. Vash knew me well enough to make some reaction to seeing me." She let her head drop again. "I know you're not Vash, but I have to ask you." She looked into his eyes again, and in a clear voice asked, "Were you the one who destroyed December?"

He smiled coldly. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am."

The young woman's face was hidden as she looked at her feet, yet he could feel the anger coming from her. Her fists were clenched and shaking.

"Why?" Her voice was wavering with her anger.

"Why not? It was just a giant gathering place for inconsiderate, arrogant people. It didn't deserve to exist. You should have expected someone like Vash the Stampede to destroy it someday."

The young woman was shaking with rage. A silent drop of moisture fell from her down-turned cheek and onto the parched earth.

"Don't say that." Her voice was a choked, almost inaudible whisper.

"What?" Vash asked sharply.

"I said don't say that!" Her sudden emotional outburst startled both the crowd and the man standing in front of her. "You're not Vash! You're not! You're just an imposter!"

In a flash the man called Vash whipped out his silver gun and pointed it at the hysterical woman. She fell silent, yet did not move. He held the gun pointed at her for what seemed like an eternity before finally lowering it. He turned to leave.

"I wouldn't go looking for him if I were you." He paused to see if she would respond, then continued. "You'll never find him. He's hiding, like the worthless coward he is." And with that, he broke though the circle of bystanders and headed out of town. As the people watched, a sudden strong wind blew up sand, hiding him from view, and when it subsided he was gone from sight.

The crowd around her began to whisper among themselves in confusion and fear. The young woman stood, her head bowed toward the ground and her fists clenched, shaking with rage.

"_You're_ the coward."

* * *

Btw, I don't own Trigun. Just thought I should mention that so I don't get sued. And I promise you, this gets better (there's a lil more info in my bio) so review and I will put you on my "Cool People" list... ;-P 


	2. The Nightmare

Meryl looked up at the large building in front of her. It was about 5 stories tall, and the same beige color as the sand surrounding it. The long stairs heading to the front doors were framed by two large pillars, making the building seem more regal than Meryl knew it to be. This building was the main office of the Bernardelli Insurance Society and Meryl's place of work for many years. It felt very nostalgic to be there again, having been out in the world for so long...

"Meryl! C'mon! Let's go!"

Meryl snapped out of her daydream and looked over at where her name was being called from. Millie was standing higher up on the stairs, waving frantically at her. Meryl smiled up at her long-time friend.

"Alright Millie, I'm coming!" she called up to Millie, as she began making her way up the stairs and into the building.

The normal bustle of the office greeted her as she stepped through the door. The sound of clicking typewriters and muted voices floated lazily around her. Meryl watched as Millie rushed over to one of the people typing at a desk. People pushed past her on their way across the room, carrying stacks of papers that where so large that their carriers where hidden behind them. Suddenly one of the stacks stopped in front of her and a face peeked out behind it.

"Hi Meryl!" the face said, smiling brightly.

"Hey Danae! It's good to see you! How've you been?"

"Pretty good," said Danae, her stack of papers wobbling precariously. She took a moment to steady them, then asked, "How 'bout you?"

"Oh, not too bad, I guess..." Meryl answered, her voice slightly strained.

"Hey weren't you out on business or something?" asked Danae.

"I was, but I got a letter from the Chief saying that Millie and I should return here immediately." Meryl paused for a moment, and then inquired, "Do you have any idea what this might be about?"

"No, not really." Danae replied. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Maybe it has something to do with your assignment." She scurried off as someone summoned her from across the room.

Meryl glared after her. _Vash is not an "assignment", _she thought angrily. She looked around the room for her partner, and found her talking animatedly with another one of their coworkers. As Meryl walked up to her, Millie turned and said, "Hey guess what, Meryl? Terry here says that the Chief has been in a good mood lately! Maybe the Chief called us here to give us promotions!"

"Highly doubtful after everything that's happened, Millie, but I can't say I wouldn't mind. I think we should go talk to him ourselves if we really want to know."

Millie's eye's brightened eagerly. "Good idea Meryl."

The Chief's private office was on the second floor of the building. Millie and Meryl made their way up the stairs and down the eerily abandoned hallway to the office door. Meryl knocked on it and waited. After a moment, the door slowly opened to reveal the tired, haggard face of the Chief. The sunken eyes widened slightly as he laid eyes on the two.

"Ah, Millie, Meryl. I was wondering when you'd get here," he said.

"You wanted to see us sir?" asked Meryl.

"Yes I did. Come in, please." He opened the door wide enough so that they could come in.

The room was small and enclosed on all sides by plain brown walls. A neat, nearly unadorned desk and chair stood facing the door. The Chief ushered them to sit in two other chairs that faced the desk. Millie and Meryl sat down in the hard wooden chairs as the Chief took his seat.

"Now," he said, folding his hands on his desk and looking at his two employees. "I have a few questions to ask you." Meryl could feel his eyes boring into her at the last word, but only for a moment before passing over to Millie.

"And what would that be sir?" asked Millie brightly.

The Chief shot another oppressive glance at Meryl before shuffling through one of the neat piles of paper on his desk. He took one paper from it, scanned it with his eyes, and then handed it to Millie.

"Have you seen this paper before, Millie?" he inquired.

Millie read the paper then looked up, a hint of confusion in her soft blue eyes. "No, I haven't, sir..."

A strange look flickered over the Chief's face. "I didn't think so."

"Sir? May I ask what this is?" the look of confusion still plagued Millie's face.

"What does look like?"

Millie looked down at the paper again. "A letter...?"

The Chief nodded. "To whom?"

Millie looked at the very bottom of the letter and frowned. "Me and Meryl."

"Oh really?" the Chief said, mock confusion thick in his voice. "Then it seems that you should have read it, no?"

Millie looked up at him. "Well, not if we didn't get it..."

"Oh but you did, because I got a response."

The room became silent. The Chief's hard gaze had returned to Meryl's silent form. Meryl kept her gaze down at her lap. Millie's gaze darted between the two in frantic confusion. The silence hung thick in the air for a few moments, before being broken by the Chief's eerily calm voice.

"Millie, would you mind excusing us for a moment?" His gaze stayed glued to Meryl.

At the Chief's words, Millie got up and left the room, yet not before sending another confused glance over her shoulder at Meryl and the Chief.

The Chief let silence reign for a few more seconds before he began to speak. "Now Meryl, I hope you know how serious these circumstances are."

Meryl kept quiet.

The Chief sighed. "I should have known that an excellent employee such as yourself would be too good to be true. I just don't understand how you could suddenly have become so... rash."

Meryl did not respond. She had made her choice. She knew the truth, and no one could take that away from her.

"Well?" The Chief's tone hinted at his annoyance with is employee. "Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

Still Meryl did not break her silence.

The Chief straightened a stack of papers, and then said, "Then you leave me no choice but to suspend you from your employment. This means that—"

The rest of his words were swallowed up by an eruption of sound and light. A huge force sent Meryl flying from her seat across the room. She landed hard on the floor, and the wind was slammed out of her. She quickly recovered, and threw her arms over her head, protecting herself from the sudden blast. She could feel an intense head coming from the other side of the room. She uncovered her head and looked over at it.

The opposite wall of the room was engulfed in flames, dark smoke billowed from it. From the parts that were standing, that is. The majority of the wall was strewn around the room in pieces. Part of the ceiling had also collapsed.

Right over the Chief's desk.

The realization of this struck Meryl hard. She could feel the smoke and heat burning her eyes as they widened in horror. Something else burned behind her eyes, but she clamped them shut before that something could escape. She sat huddled there for a moment, knowing that she should get out, but feeling too afraid to do so. Suddenly another sound reached her ears, a hard, loud sound that seemed somewhat out of place within the fiery chaos.

Gunfire.

In the hallway.

Meryl's eyes flew open.

_Millie!_

Quickly and carefully, Meryl made her way across the shattered room to the door. She stood cautiously, then burst through the door, finding the hallway beyond in the same disarray as the office.

"Meryl..."

Meryl turned at the sound of the feeble voice that she knew so well. Millie was leaning weakly against the wall beside the office door, clutching her left shoulder. Blood seeped out of the wound from behind her hand. A thick pool of the red liquid collected on thefloor around her, oozing from two more wounds in her legs. Meryl rushed over to her friend, crouching down beside her.

"Millie, what happened!? Who did this!?" Meryl said anxiously.

Millie raised her right hand off her wound, drops of blood falling from it as she bent the fingers to point down the hallway away from where the explosion had been. Meryl followed her finger, looking down the hallway to see what Millie pointed at.

There, walking away from the explosion was _Vash the Stampede_.

Meryl felt her mouth open to let out a scream, but it was swallowed up by the soundlessness of the white light.

* * *

Yup, I know I'm horribly evil for ending like that. It'll make more sense next chapter, don't worry. A hint about this chapter if you're confused: look at the title. It explains a bit... or at least it should... maybe... 

Insane thanks to my reviewers! You are all now officially "Cool People." lol

I've already gotten headway on ch.3, so I'll try to get it posted ASAP. Until then, happy writitng and reviewing! ;-P


	3. The Reunion

Meryl let out a horrid gasp as her eyes flew open. She sat up in bed, catching her breath. The sound of her heart pounding in her ears faded away slowly as she wiped the sweat from her forehead onto the sleeve of her long nightshirt. She shifted her gaze around the room, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness surrounding her. Swiftly she pulled back the sheets, swung her legs out and placed her bare feet on the cold floor. The wood creaked under her as she made her way across the room to the window. She leaned on the windowsill, staring out into the gloomy night. Her breath collected in a small cloud on the pane in front of her.

Even as much as she wished it to be, the dream that had just awoken her was not just a horrible nightmare. It was a memory, an eerily real remembrance that seemed to be haunting her mind. No matter how many years went by, it was still there, and she relived the pain of that day over and over again in the form of that nightmare. It had been a horrible day, the day that December was destroyed. That day all she thought she knew had come crashing down around her, the day that she had been left alone in the world. Her emotions swelled painfully inside of her. As she bit back the tears that threaten to fall, she came to a conclusion:

"I need a drink," Meryl muttered thickly to the window.

Still surrounded by the dark, she turned form the window and made her way across the room. She grabbed a pair of loose fitting sweatpants off the back of a chair and put them on. Then she slipped on her slippers and headed out the door of her room.

The town of Ridelle was small and quiet. The only place to stay there was a quaint tavern in the middle of town. As Meryl walked downstairs from her room into the bar, she realized that it must have been quite late, since only a few stragglers still remained of the earlier crowd. A few shady looking men huddled in the corner, discussing something of importance to them. Another man sat hunched over the bar. He wore a tattered, dirty cloak that masked his face in darkness, and hid his sulking form beneath it. Meryl sat a few seats over from the cloaked man. The bartender, who also happened to be the owner of the tavern, smiled at her as she took her seat at the bar.

"What'll it be, Miss Stryfe?"

"Whatever you recommend, as long as it's got alcohol in it." She could feel the eyes of the cloaked man glance at her as she spoke.

"You got it," said the bartender as he went to get her drink. He came back a few minutes later and placed the drink on the counter in front of her. Meryl reached into her pocket, pulled out some money and placed it on the counter. The bartender pushed it back towards her.

"It's on the house," he said kindly.

Meryl looked up in surprise, and then smiled weakly at him. "Thank you."

The bartender smiled back, turning to the cloaked man to refill his glass.

Meryl took a shot of her drink, letting the bitter liquid glide down her throat. She stared down into her glass, silent as a shadow. As the group from the corner dispersed, one of the men came over to the bar and ordered a drink. She noticed the satellite playing a strange song, one that should have faded long ago into nothingness, yet somehow had been found again.

As the song ended, the DJ began to talk about nothing in particular. The bartender brought the man from the corner his drink, and also brought the cloaked man his, along with a plain looking sandwich.

"And I guess that's why black cats like to meow at night so much." The DJ laughed obnoxiously at his own joke. "And now we go to the latest new updates that actually have some importance! Alrighty then let's what's first..." the DJ cleared his throat and his voice abruptly became more somber. "Funeral services were held today for the 16 victims of the shooting in the town of Norose last week. No arrest has yet been made in this shooting. Any-"

The man from the corner's voice broke in over the DJ's. "Y'know what I heard about those shootin's?"

The bartender turned to him. "What've ya heard, Jim?"

"I heard that it was that outlaw Vash the Stampede that done the killin's. That's what some of the witnesses say anyways."

"Makes sense," said the bartender, nodding in agreement. "He _is_ the one who destroyed July, Augusta, _and_ December. A little town like that would he nothin' to-"

Meryl sighed. "Vash the Stampede did not attack Norose or December."

The two men speaking looked towards Meryl in surprise. The cloaked man halted before he took a bite of the sandwich piece in his hand, and stuck there. "Oh?" Jim said, breaking the awkward silence. "An' how would you know _that_, missy?"

"Because..." Meryl's confidence faltered. "I- I was there, in Norose. I saw the man who did it, and it was not Vash the Stampede."

The men stared at her in shock. "But how'd you know that it wasn' Vash the Stampede?" Jim asked.

"Because I... I've seen the real Vash the Stampede before. And even though that man from Norose looked like Vash, it wasn't really him."

An arid stillness hung in the room. The bartender swallowed slowly. "Well, I'm very sorry to hear that you had to witness that..."

Meryl stayed silent. It took all of her willpower to stop her emotions from showing.

'Did you know any of the people who died in Norose or December?"

A flash of painful images stung Meryl's mind. "No, no one—"

"Wait a minute," interjected Jim. "D'ya mean t'say that you're also in December when it was destroyed?"

Meryl flinched. "Y-yes, I was."

"So... that man from Norose... the Vash impostor... is he the one who destroyed December, too?"

Meryl bowed her head, trying to hide the sorrow in her eyes. "Yes," she said dejectedly.

The bartender glared angrily at the man from the corner. "Knock it off will ya Jim—!"

The sound of porcelain scrapping wood entered Meryl's ears. She suddenly noticed that the area of the bar in front of her was now occupied by a plate- with the cloaked man's untouched sandwich on it.

"Here, take it. You seem like you need this more than I do..." Meryl stared at the plate. "If you eat it, it'll make you feel better..." The cloaked man's voice was cracked and raspy, as if he had spent too much time in the desert swallowing sand. Meryl looked up in time to watch the man place some crumpled bills on the bar and head out the front door to the street beyond.

The bartender let out a huff. "Well, now..." he said questioningly, turning away from the door.

Meryl kept staring at the closed door, her mind trying to decipher the strange feeling of deja-vu that had just assailed her at the sound of the man's voice. Forcefully she turned her eyes away from the door to the sandwich that now sat on the counter in front of her. She picked up a piece and scrutinized it.

"Wouldn't eat that if I was you," came Jim's voice. "Might be... poisoned."

Meryl decided she's take her chances and bit into it. She chewed it slowly, her mind still trying to process the voice of the cloaked man. The sandwich was quite plain tasting she realized. The bread seemed soggy, and the filling wasn't really to her liking.

The filling...

Meryl's eyes widened and a look of shock prevailed over her face. The bartender looked at Meryl's changed expression and frowned.

"Miss Stryfe, are you okay?"

"Salmon..." It was the last word Meryl uttered before she leaped off her chair and raced out the door.

The bartender blinked in confusion. "Well, I missed something, that's for sure..."

* * *

The night was cool, serene. The world was lit with the silvery glow of the moons as they made their nightly trek across the deep blue sky. The only thing that stirred in the blanket of silence was a man, trudging through town. He made his way toward the open desert, a slight feeling of guilt plaguing his tormented heart. He wished that he could have stayed here longer, but he knew that was impossible. He was an outsider, an exile to society, sentenced to wander aimlessly for eternity. He went anywhere, and stayed nowhere long. This was the sentence he placed upon himself for what he had done. 

"Vash!"

Impulsively, he stopped. It was the same voice that had driven him out of the bar, the one he knew he had to get away from. But now, there was nowhere to run...

Slowly, he turned.

She stood there, illuminated by the moonlight, the silver glow reflecting in her dark eyes.

"Excuse me?" he said, trying his hardest to keep his voice steady.

"Were you really going to leave without saying anything?" Her hushed voice resonated with pain and frustration.

"What do you mean?" He said, feigning innocence.

She sighed, "Vash..."

"What? You think _I'm_ Vash? I'm not Vash." His voice sounded so foreign that he almost believed himself. He turned away from her and began to walk away. He should be gone by now. He was putting her in danger by just even speaking to her.

"That is such a load of crap and you know it!" the velocity of her voice staggered him. He stopped, but did not turn to face her again.

"Why do you think that _I'm_ Vash the Stampede?"

There was silence for a moment. "The sandwich you gave me..." her voice was so quiet it was almost inaudible. "It was salmon. That's your favorite kind..." she trailed off.

He stood in shock. _She remembered that? _He swallowed his emotions and asked, "Why do you want to find Vash so badly?"

"Because..." She sighed. "I need to tell him something. Something important."

There was silence between the two. He waited, seeing if she would say anything.

"Vash... Millie's dead," Meryl managed to choke out.

Vash's eyes widened in disbelief. He turned around violently towards Meryl. "What?"

Meryl bowed her head slightly. "She was with me in December and didn't make it out before..." again she couldn't bring herself to finish her sentence.

Vash gaped at her. "But, you told the people at the bar you didn't know anyone who—"

"I _lied_, Vash," she let herself vent some of her built up aggravation. "I didn't want their pity."

"Oh, but you do want mine?" An ember of frustration flickered within Vash as well.

Meryl's eyes flashed with venom. "You want to know what happened? Millie wasn't killed when the city was destroyed. Your... _charlatan_ shot her. Once in the shoulder and in each leg and probably in other places that I didn't have time to notice!"

_That's almost exactly like I shot him... _Vash thought in horror.

"Knives..." he snarled quietly.

There was silence for a moment. "I thought so..." Vash looked at Meryl as she spoke, a painful expression glazed in her eyes. He sighed and turned away again.

"I thought I did it, Meryl. I thought I had been able to stop him without having to sink to his level. I told my self I was going to get back to town with him as fast as possible and was not going to stop. But eventually I became so exhausted that I had to rest. I guess... I guess I fell asleep, I really don't know. But what I do know is that when I woke up, Knives was standing there, with both of our guns with him and my red coat, all of which I had left behind. He turned to me slightly, and smiled... That was all I saw before I blacked out. He must've hit me on the head while I was asleep, and I didn't even notice. Then, I heard his voice in my head, saying, 'You will pay for underestimating me, Vash. As your punishment, I will make your life a living hell.'" Vash paused. "Everything he's done since has been just that: punishment."

Neither one said anything for a while. There was nothing they felt they could.

"I-I got a letter," Meryl began out of the silence. "From my boss. It said that Vash the Stampede was caught and that I should return to the main office immediately." Vash turned to her, a questioning look in his eyes. "But when I looked at the date, I realized that it wasn't possible, because you had still with us then. So I sent my boss a letter saying so. A few weeks later, I got another letter instructing Millie and myself to return there. And I sent him another reply, saying that I would stay there and wait for you to come back. I received one final letter telling us to go back to the main office." Meryl sighed. "I kept the first two letters from Millie, since I didn't want her to loose hope," Sadness reeled within her again. "I guess, maybe I should've..." Her voice was much more somber. "That's why we were in December when it was destroyed."

"How did you know that they didn't mess up the date or something?" Vash asked incredulously.

"Because... I just knew, Vash," Meryl said.

Silence reigned over the moonlit figures. Meryl lowered her eyes. "So, what are you going to do now, Vash?"

Vash closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. "What do you expect me to do, Meryl?"

Meryl looked back up at him, and her old confidence seemed to return to her momentarily. "You know what."

Vash frowned. Of course he knew. He was expected to find his brother and stop him. The real question was how...

"You're the only one who can stop him, Vash," Meryl said, her voice becoming quiet again. "If you don't, more people might end up like Millie..."

"How do you know I won't mess up again?" Vash challenged calmly.

"Because," said Meryl, a fiery look beginning to burn in her eyes. "I'm coming with you."

Vash started in shock. "What? You can't! It's too dangerous!"

"You really think I care, Vash? And besides, I saw once before and he didn't kill me then. Maybe I can be that lucky again."

"But—" Vash insisted.

"I am coming with you and that's final!" Meryl shouted in his face.

Vash staggered backwards. "Y-yes ma'am!"

Meryl calmed herself down. "I don't want to loose you again."

Vash smiled. "You won't. I promise."

* * *

OMG Im so so so so so so so so (SOOOOOOOOOOO) sorry about the long delay! I had no idea that this would take me so friggin long! But, its finally finish and that's all that matters right? I could rant about what happened in the past 2 months that caused this delay, but its boring so I wont bore u. Oh and I hope that none of u read my reviews before reading this chapter, cuz a certain person gave away the identity of Vash's imposter... nice job Rune (lol). And yes I must thank trigirl48 for her review, cuz its what inspired me to finish this today! High five! ooooo see? That's all ya'lls incentive to review, cuz it makes me feel luved! And I know that ppl are actually reading this. So... go! Now! Before u forget! ;-P 


	4. The Thorn

"Ahhh, we made it!"

Meryl collapsed to the ground in exhaustion and relief. Two weeks had passed since they had begun their search for Knives, and still they had no solid leads on where he might be. During those weeks, they had stopped at numerous small towns, and had only heard one rumor: he was to the west. So Vash and Meryl decided that was their best bet, not knowing that the closest town was actually 3 days away...

"'Welcome to Kashett,'" Vash read off the sign at the entrance to the town. "Doesn't look that welcoming to me..."

Meryl raised her head to ask what he meant, but she found out for herself.

"There's... no one here..." she said quietly. "But... it's nearly midday there should be plenty of people out..."

Vash walked into town, and Meryl quickly got up and followed him. Yet wherever they went, they could find no signs of anyone in the town.

_I don't get it... was he already here?_ Vash thought. Suddenly he and Meryl heard the muffled sound of someone yelling come from one of the buildings adjacent to them. Meryl spotted a sign that informed her that the building was in fact an inn. She moved quickly to the door, and leaned her ear against it. Vash followed suite.

The yelling instantly became more amplified through the wooden door, yet it stayed incomprehensible. Vash frowned in concentration as he tried to catch what the voice was saying.

"—side right now!" Vash heard the voice say. He looked down as the door handle began to turn.

Before he had any time to react, the door flew open sending Vash and Meryl onto the floor of the inn's lobby. The man who had opened the door shouted in fear and pointed the gun in his hand at them.

"Whoa hey, there's no need for that!" Vash exclaimed as he sat up quickly, putting his arms into the air. "We don't mean any harm, we're just simple travelers who—"

"IDIOT! Get OFF me!" Meryl screeched as she sat up for her spot underneath Vash. He yelped as he lost his balance and fell over onto the floor. Meryl looked up to find the quivering barrel of the man's gun in her face.

"Put that away, Jeff," a cool voice broke the nervous tension in the room. "You might actually shoot someone with the damn thing." Meryl turned to see a thin-faced, middle-aged man seated at a table in the corner of the room. He had dark, gray-highlighted hair and a large vertical scar along his right cheek.

"B-but how do we know that they're not—" the young man stammered.

"You're kidding, right? I mean, just look at 'em!" the older man said. "And besides, if they really did work for him, you'd already be dead."

"'Him...?'" Vash questioned. "Him who?"

"Vash the Stampede, that's who!" Jeff shouted angrily. "That damn bastard—!"

"Jeff, calm down, we're getting ahead of ourselves here," the older man said. He stood up and announced, "Name's Jerry Bransta, and this paranoid idiot is Jeff Houseton. And you are...?"

Meryl stood up off the ground. "I'm Meryl Stryfe, and—"

"And I'm Gregory Smith." Vash said over-seriously. Jerry looked at him quizzically, and Meryl just rolled her eyes. Vash cleared his throat awkwardly.

"So, what about Vash the Stampede?" he asked.

"Well," Jerry began, "supposedly he—"

"'Supposedly?'" Jeff cut in. "What the hell are you talking about? He did attack Sooilay! I saw him there with my own eyes!"

Jerry sighed in annoyance. "You never saw the guy before; how the hell are you supposed to know who he is?"

Jeff glared at the older man. "I've heard him described plenty of times! He's a blonde man who wears red and has a silver weapon! And that's who I saw in Sooilay!"

"Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving," Jerry said quietly. He sat down and leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving the younger man. "Did you ask him?"

Jeff gave him an irritated, questioning look. "Ask him what?"

"If he was Vash the Stampede," the scarred man reiterated.

"Of course not! The minute I saw him I bolted back to town! I—"

"Well then you'll never know for sure will ya?" Jerry's gray eyes gazed coolly at Jeff. An uneasy silence filled the room. Jeff's eyes narrowed before he abruptly turned and exited the room in frustration.

Jerry turned back to Meryl and Vash. "You're gonna have to excuse him. He lost a lot of family and friends in Sooilay. It's only been about a week, so he's still pretty bitter."

"Have you considered that it might really have been Vash the Stampede who did this?" Meryl inquired.

"Actually, we're pretty damn sure it is him; it wasn't just Jeff who said so. I just don't want him scaring people with a rumor like that. Even worse, he might find some people as crazy as he is who might go with him to confront Vash."

"You mean... he's still there?" Vash asked in disbelief.

Jerry hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. We sent a scouting party up there a few days ago and they said they saw someone in the town who looked like 'em..." There was a strange forced tone to his voice, but it quickly disappeared. "Everyone's in a panic because they're afraid that... Kashett will be next..."

"What are you planning to do?" Meryl asked.

Jerry shrugged. Just then a door opened and an elderly woman appeared, with Jeff not to far behind.

"That's enough Mr. Bransta! I don't want you scarin' away anymore've my customers!"

"I'm not scaring them away Gran! They're the one's who asked in the first place!"

Gran looked at Jerry skeptically then turned to Vash and Meryl, a bright, friendly smile contrasting her former look.

"I'll apologize for him. He tends to get a little over-dramatic about things, just ignore it."

Jerry groaned. "You've gotta be kidding me..."

Gran shot him another hostile glare, then returned to Vash and Meryl. "You two look like you could use some rest. Would you like to stay here for the night?"

Meryl returned the woman's smile. "Of course."

As Meryl signed them in, Vash leaned over to Jerry and asked in a whisper, "She's not really your grandmother, is she?"

"Nope," Bransta said, a cold knowing smile at him darkening his visage. "My family's all dead."

"C'mon, let's go find our rooms!" Meryl said, pulling hard on Vash's arm and leading him upstairs. Jerry followed them with his eyes until they were out of sight.

"Uhg, that guy really irks me," Meryl said quietly as they reached the second floor landing. She handed Vash the paper with their room numbers on it.

"Well, he did save our lives..." Vash said.

"Yeah, but... I dunno. I still don't trust him."

"Aw c'mon Meryl, he's not that bad."

She looked at Vash incredulously. "Are you kidding? With the way he was glaring at you back there, I'm surprised you're not dead! Anyway," Meryl and Vash resumed walking, her voice lower again. "What are we going to do about... you know...?"

"I guess... we'll just have to go see for ourselves."

Meryl nodded. There wasn't any way around it. They were going to have to face him some day...

Suddenly Vash stopped. Meryl looked up at him. "What is it?"

He pointed at a door next to him. "This is your room, I think..." he said, checking the small slip of paper again.

Meryl started, and then laughed nervously. "So it is..."

Vash smiled at her, handing her the room key. "Guess we could use some rest, huh?"

"Sure seems that way." Meryl took the key and opened the door. She turned back to Vash and said, "Well, see you tomorrow."

"Bright and early, 'kay? We should try and leave without being noticed."

Meryl nodded. Vash waved and head down the hallway to his room as she entered hers. She closed the door behind her and leaned up against it.

Whatever Vash said, it didn't matter; there was something unnerving about that man, Jerry Bransta. Every time he spoke, it reminded her of an indistinct feeling of sorrow, anger, and helplessness. She shook her head, telling herself that she just needed to relax; tomorrow was going to be a big day...

* * *

The morning began like any other Meryl had ever experienced: cool, freshly lit by the light of the twin suns beginning their daily ascension of the cloudless sky. But she knew for certain that it would not end that way. In the distance she could see the town of Sooilay, dark and silent in its desolation, the foreboding reminder of what awaited her and Vash that day. A pang of nervousness stung within her as the got closer and closer to their destination. 

The first thing that they noticed as they neared the town was awful stench of death that permeated the air. Meryl gagged and covered her mouth and nose with the sleeve of her coat, trying in vain to block the putrid smell form entering her lungs. She took a sidelong look at Vash whose face was wry from the stench. His eyes were wet with tears, but Meryl knew that wasn't because of the smell.

They both stopped at the entrance of the town, and Meryl couldn't help but let a small, terrified gasp escape her as she laid eyes on the scene. Bodies lay everywhere in broken, mangled heaps. Pools of blood dried from the suns surrounded them. Meryl stood still, not daring to more. She felt her breath become more erratic.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to Meryl." Vash's voice broke in over the desolated scene.

Meryl sighed and shook her head. "No... I-I'm fine..."

Vash glanced at her worriedly. She sure didn't seem fine. Of course, neither did he...

Vash finally forced himself to move forward and Meryl followed behind him, both dodging the bodies and bloodstains. They searched the town, but saw no sign of any living being save themselves. After about an hour, Vash and Meryl found a part of town that was less saturated with death. Abruptly, Vash froze. Meryl followed his frozen gaze and saw what had made him react so.

There was someone else alive in the town.

He was crouched down beside one of the bodies, his back to them. Without warning he stood, not taking his eyes off the deceased. He raised his head and turned to face them, the morning sunlight reflecting off the yellow tinted sunglasses on his face. The tattered red coat he wore fluttered in a small breeze that washed in from the surrounding desert. The man smiled as he walked toward them. His smile widened as Vash and Meryl visibly tensed.

He stopped within speaking distance. "Well Vash, I wondered if you'd show up."

Vash stared grimly at the man. "Knives," he snarled.

The smile on Knives' face remained, but behind the glasses he eyed Vash strangely.

"So... why are you here?" Knives asked, staring Vash down while still smirking. He made no acknowledgment of Meryl's presence.

"Is it true that you're planning to attack the town south of here?" Vash asked, keeping his anger in check.

Knives eyes widened eagerly. "There's a town south of here?" He laughed at the panicked look on Vash and Meryl's faces. "What, you really think I didn't know that already? Ah Vash, you're far too easy to—" Suddenly the smile on his face faded into a frown and his eyes focused on something beyond Vash and Meryl. Vash kept his eyes on his brother, but Meryl turned to see what he was looking at. She gasped.

"Nice to see you made it." Vash blanched. _I know that voice! _He turned around violently to confirm the identity. Bransta stood yards away from them, his eyes fastened on Knives smugly.

"W-what are you doing here?" Meryl asked in confusion.

"Just came to finish what I started back in Norose," he said calmly. Meryl stared. _So that's why he's so familiar..._

"And this time," he continued, "there won't be any interruptions, right?" He casually took a black pistol from his side, and pointed it at Knives. A tense silence passed between them. Suddenly Bransta's eyes unfocused, and then his brow furrowed in anger. He reluctantly put his gun away. At the same time,he calmlyplaced his left hand in his pocket.

Knives chuckled evilly at Bransta. "What? Can't you kill one guilty man?" he mocked. Bransta's eyes narrowed.

"You think that's it?" he said angrily. "Then how do you think this mess got here, eh?"

"Are you saying that, _you_ did this?" Vash asked, horrified.

Bransta turned to him. "Not by myself, of course..."

"But... why?" Meryl's voice quivered with dread.

"Orders," he said matter-of-factly. Then his voice became grimmer. "We were told this place was full of filth... so we cleaned it."

"You think that just because you helped do this that you can defeat me?" Knives continued in the same sardonic tone. He scoffed at Bransta. "Incompetent creature..."

Bransta's eyes flashed. A maniacal smile pulsed over his face. "Yeah. I do." He swiftly took his gun from his side and pointed it at Knives. Before he could react Knives screamed in agony and clutched his chest, collapsing to the ground. Bransta's finger remained on the unreleased trigger of his gun.

Bransta's face lit with eager excitement. As he watched Knives, in pain he noticed a flash of silver to his left and shot at it. Meryl let out a gasp of pain as her gun was shot from her hand.

"I thought I said no interruptions..." Bransta said heatedly.

Vash looked helplessly between Knives and Meryl. His eyes lingered on his brother a moment before he rushed over to Meryl. Bransta narrowed his eyes at Vash, and another shot rang in the air.

Bransta reeled back as the bullet lodged itself into his shoulder. Knives arose slowly from the ground, smoke rising from the end of his gun. Bransta glared spitefully at him. "You inhuman..." he snarled painfully. The same absent looked as before passed over his face. He eyes refocused, and then he closed them, his teeth gritting into a smirk against the pain.

"S'about time..." he muttered through his gritted teeth. Suddenly a blood red light blinded the three others in the town. When the light faded, Bransta was gone.

Meryl stared at the spot where he had just been, shocked and confused. _Who _was_ that...?_

"You alright?" Vash's voice startled her. She looked up at him, and nodded. She opened her mouth to speak, but a sound behind her and Vash caught their attention. Both turned to see Knives slowly making his way away from them.

"Knives—" Vash began.

"Save it, Vash," Knives snarled at his brother. "I'm not in the mood to deal with you right now."

Vash turned to Meryl for help, but she only shrugged. He turned back to try convince Knives differently, but found that he was nowhere in sight.

"Where did he...?" Meryl began to asked

Vash sighed. "C'mon, let's get out of here," he said quietly. "You should really have that hand looked at."

"I'm fine," Meryl said, holding her hand as it throbbed painfully. Vash eyed her doubtfully. She caught the look, and quietly gave in, and without hesitation they made their way out of the gloomy, desolate town.

* * *

YES I have finished! XD and im very sorry if this chapter is written really crappily... I just couldn't get into one of those good writing moods... damn writers block... XO well anywhoo... OMG reviewers! u love me! lol and to show my appreciation ive decided to respond to ur reviews! Yay! so here goes... 

Aine of Knockaine—U call him nick too? errr nicolas... err something... lol. at least that's what it seemed like anyway... I used to call him nick all the time cuz that's what my friend who told me about Trigun called him coughkirafirefancough thanks so much for reading and reviewing!

animestlkr/trigirl48—AH! So ur the Anonymous One of Inspiration! XD but, u confuse me... u reviewed chapter 2 twice! Ah well, whatever... u inspire so who cares? XD thankies! Congrats on getting ur permit btw! (I assume u mean drivers permit, but u know what they say about assumptions...XD)

Rogue-Chimera26— salmon isn't bland, eh? Well, meryl thinks so… so mlah! lol actually I wouldn't know cuz guess whaat? Ive never had it (real shocker there... ;-P ) thanks for reviewing Runie! (haha, Runie...)

inkydoo—they cant go home yet! They gotta stop Knives! strikes dramatic pose uh, yeah...anywhoozles thanks for reviewing:-D

KhalidahTiaret—wow, critical reviews! Not something u see every day... lol thanks so much tho... u think I killed Millie cuz shes hard to write? I'd never do that! (consciously...XD) thanks so much!

mangaqueen13—wait, u don't think Meryl said that quote, do u? cuz... she didn't... it was Knives who said that... crap now I gotta check to see if that's coherent or not! lol anywhoo thanks for ur reviews!

Puchiko2—Do not cry! I have returned! XD so glad u liked it! And yes, VashxMeryl shall live on foreva! Whooohooooo:-D

kirafirefan6583—hey Vashnick thanks for reviewin'! make sure u keep writing ur original fics, and ill keep writin this:-P

kevaiss— What u didn't think I write anymore? Are u nuts? Id never leave it like that! Lol thanks for reviewin!

So ya btw ive come to the conclusion that it takes me about 1 to 2 months to update a chapter... I know im slow u don't have to tell me that! -.-' oh and im making weekly (bi-weekly? semi-weekly? ah whatever!) updates to my profile about my progress so if u wanna see how im doin, u can check there (not that any of u really care that much... lol). and just as a heads up: ive changed a lot of the stuff to come, so expect the next chapter to take the better half of 2 months... and as always, review! ;-P


	5. The Haunted

Evenings in Sangest City had become unconventionally quiet and lonely since the report of an attack on the neighboring town of Sooilay. Sooilay might have been over two isles away from the city, but it was rumored that Vash the Stampede had been the one who had attacked it, and the citizens of Sangest City were wary. The foreboding city waited in fearful anticipation for the day that Vash the Stampede would attack their city, a day they were certain was imminent.

The suns were passing the last of their comforting rays over Sangest City as they made their descent below the horizon. The last signs of life passed away into hiding, normally busy streets were deserted, waiting for the moment when Vash the Stampede would show up and tear it apart.

Yet even in the inert stillness of this large town something—or rather, someone—made her way down the darkened road. Her auburn hair whipped around behind her as she moved, her eyes darting to signs that had been much easier to spot in the daylight hours when she had plotted her path. She took one last turn and there it was, her destination, looming in the distance.

The Plant.

Keeping to her old pace, she headed for the entrance. As she neared it, she noticed that the sliding doors that lead inside were on the floor, smashed in from the outside. She quietly breathed out a grim sigh of relief; things were going as planned so far…

As she entered, she noticed two people, most likely plant engineers, lying unconscious on the floor. She knelt beside down beside one, feeling his neck for a pulse. He was still alive, but he had a horrible wound on his head, trickling blood down the side of his face.

_He may have a concussion, _she thought. Silently chiding herself for wasting time, she got up, straightened out her skirt, and made her way deeper inside.

It wasn't hard for her to find her way; all she needed to do was follow the path of broken doors and unconscious engineers. Finally, she came to a much larger door, which had apparently been pried open before she arrived. The sign above the door informed her that this was the room she was looking for. She frowned. Whoever had come through here before her hadn't been thinking about how _she_ would get through, apparently; only a sliver of dim emergency lighting could fit between the doors. Definitely not big enough for her to fit through. She looked around the corridor and spotted a control pad beside the door. She walked over and stood in front of the panel, glaring at it. This wasn't good. She needed to figure out the password, but how? In a burst of frustration, she smashed her hand against the control pad. To her surprise, it beeped and the doors slid open. She paused a moment, reveling in her dumb luck, and then headed inside.

A large man stood within, his body tense as she entered the room. He was squinting through the dimly–lit room, trying to discern who she was. As she reached the center of the room, she heard him sigh.

"Oh, Ms. Trevisick," came his booming voice, trying desperately to be hushed. "Good to see you've made it."

At first she didn't respond; she was too busy looking around the large room she had just entered. It was circular, with a high ceiling and pipes that lined the walls and twisted up and around them like a labyrinth. A round raised platform stood near the back of the room.

"Well, you made it pretty hard to get lost, Bruce, with the nice path you made," she finally responded, throwing a sideways glance at the large man.

Another voice scoffed. "Yeah, well, he really isn't one for subtlety, now is he?"

She jumped in shock, turning around to see who had spoken. A young man was sitting on one of the pipes that paralleled the floor, his platinum blond hair falling in front of his cool green eyes.

She placed a hand on her hip. "Glad to see you've decided to show up this time, John."

The young man smirked. "Well, Tara, unlike the rest of you people, I happen to have a life outside of our little cult here."

Tara frowned at him, while Bruce grumbled, "The Commander doesn't appreciate it when you don't come, Randfield..."

Randfield stood up, readjusted the sword hanging from his belt, and walked lazily over to the two others. "Well, luckily we're all indispensable then, eh?"

Footsteps sounded faintly down the long hallway outside the double doors, and the three tensed, listening as the steps grew closer. Instinctively, Tara grabbed the small charm hanging from the bracelet on her wrist, letting it lie loosely in her hand.

Two figures appeared in the doorway. Without a word, they began to make their way across the room, one walking in front of the other. Although their faces were obscured by the dim lighting, it was possible to tell that the person walking in front was a tall man, of about middle age, and behind him walked a girl of about mid-teens, with midnight black hair. The long, black gown she was wearing billowed behind her as she walked. Her equally dark eyes scanned the room as the pair made their way across the room. Around her neck hung a silver chain, which had been tucked inside the top of her dress. Tara gripped the charm in her hand remotely tighter, as she realized that the figures were heading her way. A quick movement caught in the corner of her eye as Randfield unsheathed his sword and set it in front of the man's neck. The tall figure stopped just as the sword touched his skin. He chuckled calmly. "It's alright, John, you know me."

Tara sighed in relief, relaxing the grip on her charm, noticing that Bruce did the same. Yet Randfield stayed where he was, his sword not moving from its place at the man's neck.

"Yeah, well you could've said something sooner," he muttered, a touch of irritation in his voice.

The man chuckled again. "You may lower your sword now," he said lightly.  
"And what if I don't feel like it?" Randfield returned smoothly.

Tara scowled at the tactless youth. A few more moments passed before he finally obey, replacing his sword back in its sheath.

"Now then," the man said, turning his attention to Tara. "Are we all present?"

"Not quite, my Commander," she replied. "We're still waiting for Jerry to join us."

Randfield scoffed. "Damn old man, so like him to be late. What the hell is taking him so long?"

Tara glared at him. "I didn't see _you_ volunteering for that task."

"That's because he wasn't there," Bruce reminded her in a quiet voice that carried across the room as if he had shouted it.

Randfield frowned. "Still, I don't think you should've let him do that. I mean, he's too… emotionally involved."

Tara folded her arms across her chest. "Oh and you're not?"

"Nope," Randfield said, flashing an exuberant grin. "I'm just here for the hell of it."

"And why am I not surprised by that?"

Everyone turned to see Bransta walking toward them, his cold gray eyes fixed on Randfield. His shoulder was wrapped in a white bandage, which was stained with blood. The younger man looked ready to retort, but the Commander cut him off.

"Everything went as planned, I presume?" he asked of Bransta.

The graying man nodded. "It defiantly did what it was supposed to do this time, Commander." The Commander smiled in approval.

"But, then what happened back at Kasted City?" Bruce said. "No one there reacted to it."

Tara shrugged. "Maybe something interfered with it."

"We will worry about that later," the Commander interrupted. He turned to the girl standing silently beside him. "Are you ready to begin?" The girl looked at him, her eyes gleaming with malicious excitement.

"Well?" Randfield snipped, crossing his arms across his chest. "Aren't you going to introduce us to your little friend?"

"My name is Avara," the girl said, her dark eyes locking onto Randfield. The young man tensed visibly under her cold gaze; she smiled in cruel satisfaction.

"So, you have the Blood too?" asked Bransta.

Avara slowly moved her eyes from the uneasy Randfield to Bransta. He kept the same stoic expression as she nodded.

"Of course," the Commander said. "I would not let any of the unclean know our secret."

"They'll know it soon enough," the young woman said sinisterly, her gazed still locked on Bransta. With the same uncaring attitude, she turned back to the Commander.

"Shall I begin now?" she asked in a quiet, uncaring tone. He nodded.

Avara turned away from everyone toward the raised platform in the center of the room. Slowly, she raised her hand to the chain around her neck and took it out of her dress. She ran her hand down the chain, finally grasping the charm on the end of it. She clenched her fist around the charm, the expression on her face only pulling together slightly before becoming calm again. A faint, high-pitched sound resonated through the wide room. After a few moments of relative silence, the room was broken by a loud blaring alarm.

"Warning!" the automated voice broke in between alarm blasts. "Plant levels severely low! Evacuate the premises immediately!"

"That's it?" Randfield shouted incredulously over the loudspeaker voice. He lowered his voice and said, "I could've done that."

Bransta scoffed. "Yeah, right."

The Commander turned to Tara. "I believe we are ready to leave now," he said calmly. She nodded.

As the Commander spoke, Bransta glanced over at Avara. She hadn't moved from her spot near the center of the room. She was holding her hand up in front of her, her palm facing her. A small cut on her palm was slowly oozing blood down her wrist, and onto her forearm. A strange look of awe glistened in her eyes.

The blood red light consumed his senses again as the sirens faded away.

* * *

Silence. How he loved it when it was silent inside his head. No nagging thoughts, no obnoxious voices, nothing. It was the kind of silence that rang in his ears: his favorite. He savored it, for he knew it would not last long. 

"_We were told this place was full of filth... so we cleaned it."_

He grunted, clasping a hand over his chest. The pain that strange man had afflicted on him still lingered in his chest, a nagging, uncomfortable feeling of which he could not rid himself. The voice reverberated in his mind and began to fade, and another entered his restless mind.

_You are foolish, you know that?_

He snarled: _that_ voice. The voice he hated the most because it was not just some reoccurring memory.

It was himself.

_Yes_, he reluctantly responded. _You've told me that plenty of times before._

_And yet, you never listen..._

_And why the hell would I listen to you?_

_Because. I know how to help you._

He scoffed. _I don't need your damn help._

_Sure seems that way to me._

_What the hell do you know?_

_Plenty. I know everything about you... or rather, us. And yet I still don't understand what you're trying to prove._

_I'm not trying to prove anything. I'm ridding the universe of a disgusting parasite, that's all._

_You think you can actually do that? Ha! You clearly underestimate them._

_What are you talking about? We are superior to them! I—_

_How?_

_...How what?_

_How are we superior?_

_Don't give me that bullshit! You know everything; you could at least know that._

_You just need to give them a chance..._

_I gave them that chance a long time ago, and they blew it._

_No, he blew it. One treats you badly and you condemn them all! _

_You know there's more to it than that. You know that they all deserve to die!_

_Then why did you listen to me?_

_What? I thought you just said I don't listen to you._

A torrent of images flashed in his mind. It stopped suddenly, and he found himself staring into a face he had tried hard to forget. Those blue eyes, so full of grief, and confusion...

_But no fear... why didn't she fear me?_

_She thought you were Vash, and Vash she trusted._

_I had just destroyed the city around her! How could she still think to trust me? _

_That's the thing. She didn't know if she could trust you anymore. Luckily for her, she could._

_Shut the hell up._

_Why? It's the truth, even if you want to deny it. You saved her._

Finally he was able to contain his frustration and not respond to the annoyance in his head. He knew what the voice said was true, no matter how much he denied it. An uncomfortable feeling touched lightly in him, but only for a moment before he shoved it away. Silence reigned again. Aching thoughts tore at his mind, and he suddenly found himself posing questions of the one who he wanted to forget.

_Why are you still here?_

_Why shouldn't I be? We are the same, after all._

_I destroyed you._

_No. You just push me away, submerging me in your sea of hate._

_You are worthless. A thing of the past. You're too weak to have control over me, and you know that._

At first there was no reply. He began to wonder if maybe it was over, that he had finally given up, when the voice answer him.

_You're right, I am._

He smiled. He had finally conquered it.

_But that's not why I'm here. _

His smile quickly inverted to a bemused frown. Another pause lingered in his mind.

_I'm here to save us from you unforgivable past._

His frowned remained as the voice finally faded from his mind. He found himself again listening to the silence, and did not break it as it caved in around him.

* * *

Well I'm sure you're all reeling in your seats; I mean, hey! I updated! Woo! Only took me... oh, eight months. Yeah. Bad me. Dunno when my next update of this story will be, either. I'll have more info in my bio tomorrow (since it's late here and I wanna sleep... yaay sleep...). I'm sorry thischapter wasn't more exciting, tho there were afew things that were interesting (well, atleast for me... I hope you all could tell who the psycho personin the second halfwas... and what it was that he said that was interesting... teehee)Soo until then, make sure you review-- and that means all of you! Points at those who I know have read this story and haven't reviewed!) I heart you all! 


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